


Stages Of Grief

by Lacus



Category: World Trigger
Genre: Gen, like Jin, like Jin or Azuma, mentions of some other characters - Freeform, more of a gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-16 01:04:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8080714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lacus/pseuds/Lacus
Summary: For Miwa it starts with the death of his sister and it never quite goes away.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Certain liberties taken, most notable being I always thought of Yoneya and Miwa as childhood friends. Besides that I don't believe there are any major changes (except, you know, this all being fiction...)  
> Happy ending, or more like implied happy ending for those that like me don't sad ending. It is hopefull at least
> 
> EDIT: for the next 2 - 3 days I am going over the story to format it better and correct spelling mistakes

 

  
For Miwa it starts with the death of his sister and it never quite goes away.

 

  1. Denial (Avoidance, Confusion, Shock, Fear)



The world he knows disappears that day.

He finds her, and for a moment that seems like eternity he just stares. Stares, and stares and stares because it  _couldn't_  possibly be her. They were separated only for a moment and that  _can't be her_. It can't because his sister's eyes are not like that. They are not glossy and dead. They are vibrant, and full of life and alive.

So he shakes her and shakes her and calls and begs and yells for her to answer. She never does.

That small sense of fear that he felt when he lost her out of sight just for a moment now grows, and grows and now, he too, has a whole in his chest. Just like her.

Sensation of fear and panic grips his whole body and the only things he feels is cold. Cold from fear, cold from rain that soaks into his clothes and coldness from her body. From hands that used to be  delicate and gentle and soft,  but now, are just cold and limp.

Then red slowly stains his vision. He watches mortified as red seeps through her west and spreads all over her chest. He feels like he is drowning in red. He can't breathe, he can't think. He can not comprehend the image, the reality, before him.

Suddenly, shades of blue fill his vision. Turquoise tinted shades, azure jacket and light blue eyes watching with pity as he begs for salvation, for miracle, for world to make sense again. It never happens. All that blue only makes him colder and colder. ( That sensation of cold never fades away and when he sees  _him_  the cold only intensifies.)

Seconds pass, minutes pass, hours and days pass but he _can not_ grasp the fact that she is no longer here. He can not comprehend this new world; that is not his world. His world is small place with four walls and scent of lavender in the air. A small world with one bed, small white bear that was birthday gift and glimpses of moments in time staring at him from the walls, from the desk, because she always wanted to capture that moment of happiness.

So he sits in this dark world that smells like lavender and grips the moment in which her eyes  were alive and stares and stares and occasionally calls her name but this reflection  never blinks and never answers back.

There is a hole in his chest just like his sisters. They were siblings after all, it is only natural.

 

  1. Anger (Frustration, Irritation, Anxiety)



Time goes by and passes, and nothing changes inside this small world until it does.

The hole in his chest burns. It burns and burns and burns so much that he screams. He screams and yells and throws things and hits things.  This small, dark world is suddenly on fire and he is burning alive.

He shatters and throws fake distortions because they are not real, she is not here, the  _real_  her is not here and these small  rectangular sheets encased in glass are fake.  _Fake fake fake fake_. A poor imitation of life.

* * *

 

 Ever since that day he only saw Miwa once. He holed himself in his sister's room and didn't came out even for the funeral.  He visited him on that day, but Miwa only stared at the photo clutched in his fingers and gave no indication he was in any way aware of the Yōsuke. So he left because he agreed with his parents that only time will help and because of some other less stellar reasons.

Miwa was awkward and blunt, and often came off mean even when he meant best. Smiled rarely and scowled always. Yōsuke thought it was hilarious and he liked his life unpredictable and vibrant and fun and interesting so he sticked close to Miwa. In return, he received scowls and glares but it only made him grin more and laugh more. So he latched harder and made it his life mission to lead fulfilling school life with Miwa. ( His favorite time was the beginning of the school year when he got to drag Miwa to try  all kinds of clubs. Miwa and ikebana club featuring one angry Miwa versus flowers was by far his favorite. )

And  Yōsuke was good at reading peoplen so he soon realized that Miwa was less socially awkward (well, he was that too) but more straight forward to the fault. He was honest, didn't pretend and mold himself to others image; he always remained faithful to himself. He believed  in rules and acted upon them. Also a little bit guarded, didn't trust so easily. If only he had just a little more social grace things would have been a lot different. He would have been more  _dark, mysterious and handsome_ , and a less  _dark, brooding and handsome_.  But maybe that was for the best, less people flocking around. Less competition and sharing.

So Miwa became Shūji.

And then, there was Shūji with his sister. More softer, more calmer, more happier. Less rough around the edges, less sharp. Smiled more, scowled less. For an only child like him it was amazing watching them together. They appeared like opposite with Miwa's lips always set in a straight line or downwards and his sister perpetually smiling and laughing. Miwa in black gakuran and dark blue and black, and his sister in pink and yellow and orange -  always vibrant. They quarreled and disagreed and got mad at each other, but never fought to the point of hurting each other. There was this warmth and understanding and acceptance that sometimes made him just a little bit jealous over their connection.

And then…. she was gone. Yoneya grieved and cried but accepted and didn't hate. And then he saw Miwa and he felt lost. He always saw past the scowls, past the walls and past the glares, past the blunt words. He prepared himself for the grief struck, sad and lost Shūji but not for this. This hollow Shūji, with eyes dull and completely lost to this world. So, he got a little unsure and scared, and kind of ran from this Miwa.

If he gave him some time perhaps he would get him to look at him and acknowledge him. Perhaps...

So he waited, occasionally called and made inquires about Miwa. Just as he was debating with himself on how to approach him, what to say, he was approached instead. By Shūji's mother.

Still in black, dark circles beneath eyes, face thin and pale. She was a shadow of herself but there was still small fire burning in her eyes. She lost one child, she refused to lose other. But she was lost at how to deal with this situation. In soft voice she told him how yesterday evening they heard noise and screams  coming from their daughter rooms where Shūji holed himself to find him tearing apart room. Her husband restrained him, while she was calling ambulance because they just couldn't calm him down. Couldn't stop the screams.

It ended with Miwa sedated and hands and feet in bandages. They refused to take him to hospital convinced that separation would only do more harm. Instead, they left him in the room,  but they were constantly checking him. Even now, as she talked her gaze kept flicking to the phone gripped in her hand. Apprehension of being away was eating her.

Yoneya was the only one that Miwa brought home, the only one he talked about, the only one he called a friend. She knew no other person close to her son, trusted no other. So he smiled his best reassuring smile and promised to come first thing in the morning. Her posture relaxed a little, tension seeped from her body and she gave him small smile.

It was 8 o'clock in the morning when he came. Shūji's parents were already up and dressed, and as he greeted them with smile  he wondered how much they even slept these days, how much Miwa sleeps?

The answer was waiting him at the room.

Miwa, wide awake, lying on the floor and staring the ceiling. There was futon on the floor and covers and pillows. Miwa made no sign that he acknowledged his presence, not even a turn of the head. He tried calling him but to no avail. He sighed, sat down and took a look around the room.The curtains were closed, the only light coming from the lamp that he recognized was previously in the Miwa's rooms. He must have smashed the one in the room along the all the photos. Her desk, and shelves above  used to befull of picture with silly frames and few big pictures of  landscapes on the walls. On her, now last, birthday his whole family bought her one; a picture of vast ocean. Now, the only things left were bare surfaces. And Miwa with hands and feet bandaged.           

He wasn't sure how to approach this Shūji, so Yousuke started talking. About his day, about what he saw on TV, about whatever came to his mind. He talked and talked and talked and talked…..

It was way past noon when he left. Miwa hadn't said a word.

He promised to come back tomorrow and he did. He talked more, Miwa said nothing and day passed. He came again, he talked, Miwa didn't, he left. Another day, another repetition.

It was a week before status quo was broken. He doesn't remember what he said, was it even something he said, but Miwa suddenly lashed at him, like the wounded animal he was. He lashed viciously, hurling words that were meant to hurt, to cut deeply and leave a scar. He sprang from the floor, first real movement during this whole time, suddenly full of vigor and grabbed him by his shirt and kept his assault. His eyes were ablaze, his voice gruff but so full of anger, of sadness, of  _everything._

He didn't know anything. He wasn't there. His did not love his sister, was not her friend. Was not  _his_ friend. A hypocrite coming out of his own sense of guilt and social expectations had no business with him. His presence was un-wanted. Un-needed. Un-wished.

Miwa only had his sister. Once. Now....he had no one.

Yousuke just stood, tried not to let the insults get to him, even if he secretly agreed to some. Still, he stood his ground as Miwa gritted each and every word out. When he was done, when he retreated back to the floor, back turned, he just said  _See you tomorrow,_  turned, nodded and gave small smile to Miwa'sparents that were hovering nervously around the door and left.

He came back the next day, was promptly kicked out out oft he room so he sat in front of the door and started talking about whatever.

 

  1. Depression (Overwhelmed, Helplessness, Hostility, Flight)



He felt hollow.

The grief passed, the sadness passed, the anger passed, it all went away leaving nothing.

Everything was a blur. Hours, days, weeks, mornings, evenings, it was all the same. He didn't know how much time passed since that day or what time was now. All he knew was the darkness of this small world he created for himself.  But even that was hollow now, bare image of what it used to be, destroyed by his own hands - sometimes, today, yesterday, a week ago - he didn't know. It was a blur, shades of gray and black blending together.

He didn't know what he wanted, what he needed, what to do…What to do in this world that he, no,  _she_  no longer belonged, no longer was part of.  _What was he supposed to do?_

Accept?

Accept  _what_? That she was no longer here because of ….because of….because of…because of  _wha_ t? Why was she no longer here? What made a hole in both of their chests, what ripped them so brutally apart?

He didn't know, he really didn't. It was not supposed to be like this. He knows no alternative. So he accepts this small dark world  with faint scent of lavender still in the air and closes his eyes.  Sometimes, very rarely, but just for a moment his world is more than this walls, more colorful  and eyes full of life stare at him, gentle voice calling him.

_Shūji._

It passes so quickly like it never happened, and then cold sweeps all over him and world is red and then it is black and it stays that way. Cold, dark world, with just bare walls. There is certain comfort int his hollow  feeling and never-ending silence.

Except….

Except….lately, there is some noise.

 

  1. Bargaining (Struggling to find meaning, Reaching out to others)



It's been eleven days since he started to sit in front of the door. He still talks about whatever. He still doesn't get any response.

Yousuke decides that it's time to try again. He is worried. No matter how much times passes Miwa doesn't move, doesn't change,doesn't give any sign of wanting to change of wanting to do anything….It is concerning, very much so. He half-wishes for him to yell again, so he can try to argue back.

He comes in and Miwa doesn't budge. He needs to come all the way to him where he is lying on the floor (never on the bed) to even convince himself that he is still breathing, that Miwa is still there.

Except….he isn't. Not really.

And he feels his throat constricting, his eyes pricking.

He tries to take his hand, and for a moment he feels _cold, cold, cold_ and then, like he is burned Miwa pulls it back. He retreats further, more closer to bed, turns his back to Yoneya and pulls covers over his head.

Yousuke swallows lump in his throat and starts talking. Not about whatever, but about himself…and Miwa….and he talks how his life is so much fun, so much  _just better_  with him in it. He tells him about how he misses him, how he is worried, how he is scared, how he wants to help, how he wants his friend back.

He is here, and yet isn't here and he really,  _really_ , just a little bit understands how Miwa feels.

Somewhere along the way he starts crying, tears streaming down his face.

Miwa still doesn't even stir.

* * *

 

It is getting noisier. Louder. More clear.

He sometimes thinks he hears words. Sometimes he thinks about straining harder, about trying to hear, to understand.

He dreams. Dreams of soft smiles, gentle voice.

_Shūji._

_Wake up._

He wakes up. His world changes(or was it already _changed?_ ) a little. There is someone else in his small dark world.

* * *

 

He must have fallen asleep during all that talk. There is crust around his eyes from all the crying and he rubs his hands in attempt to fully open his eyes. Darkness awaits him. His legs too have fallen asleep and he falls on his back when he tries to get up. He sighs and stays laying for a moment. A quick look at the phone tells him it's close to 7 pm.

„I gotta go now. I'll see you tomorrow, Shūji.“ His voice is a little raw, and he doesn't except answer and he doesn't get one.

Which is why he is surprised when he finds a pair of dark eyes staring at him. He blinks and stares. For the first since he started coming Miwa is looking at him. Acknowledging his presence. He is confused but feels the need to say something. So he does.

„Hi.“ Words fail him. „ Ahh, no…I mean…Yeah…“

Miwa continues looking at him. If he wasn't blinking, Yoneya would have thought he was asleep with eyes open…He thinks and thinks but he fails to find words. In the end, he lies down on the floor, parallel to Miwa and stares back. 

He reaches for his hand. His hand is not rejected.

Neither one speaks and for a while the only sound in the room is sound of breathing and covers rustlingevery now and then.

Silence is broken by gentle knocking on the door and voice calling their names.

Yoneya gets up as Shūji's mother enters the room carrying the plates with dinner, her husband trailing behind her with pitcher full of juice. Orange, Shūji's favourite. It must have been 8 o'clock. They always bring dinner then. There are always at least two plates, full of this and that.  Most often they pick them up exactly the same in the morning.

She bents down, looks long and hard at Shūji and her face scrunches. She puts her hand on her son's head and just strokes his hair. Then she looks at Yousuke, gives a small pat on his head, smiles and gets up. Her husband follows her lead and then they both leave room and silence reigns once again.

Until his stomach rumbles. He lets out an embarrassed laugh and looks at Miwa. He thinks he sees him raising  eyebrow but he is not sure. After some contemplation he sits next to Miwa and pulls one plate towards himself and starts eating. He pulls other to Miwa, even holds it in front of him in hopes it would wake his appetite. In the end Miwa pushes the plate down but he does take the juice.

Yoneya takes it as some sign of victory. And then he starts talking again. He talks and talks, a little bit about whatever and a little bit about himself and Miwa. He talks and talks and talks  _and talks_  until he feels a weight on his shoulder.

He turns his head to find Miwa asleep.

This is the closest that they had been in a long time.

In this dark room this is the first time he can see him clearly so he observes him. His hair unkempt and disheveled, his face pale even in this darkness and frighteningly thin. His whole body is thin, and the large sweatshirt only accents that. They are dark circles around his eyes and he can just barely see some scratches, probably from glass. His lips are also pale, chapped and bitten. He is a mess.

He sighs, searches for Miwa's hand again and holds it. He squeezes it a few times, just so lightly. The hand in his is too thin, and cold on places where there aren't bandages.

But he recalls everything that happened today and thinks it is a step in right direction. A small, not even worth calling baby step, but move nevertheless. It is small victory, but victory it is so he grabs it and holds it.

 

  1. Acceptance (Exploring options, New plan in place, Moving on)



He keeps coming, keeps talking.

Miwa doesn't respond, not in words anyway, but he acknowledges him. He  _hmm's_  every now and then and his eyes follow Yoneya movements. He still gets lost in his own thoughts and just stares blankly at nothing, but it is a progress. He'll take what he can get.

Shūji's parents bring one more futon and covers. They pat him on the head, and he receives a tight hug whenever he leaves from Shūji's mother. 

He comes one day, when the weather outside is nice and warm and takes a step in dark room. Laptop is still on from last night, streaming some program, it's glow giving an eerie feel. Miwa is still too pale, too thin,  dark circles beneath eyes never going away.  Dark eyes looking more through the screen than at the screen.

Yousuke decides it's too morbid scene for 9 am in the morning, and without thinking approaches the window and pulls curtains open.

Light floods in and the world changes.

Miwa notices it.

Stares at Yoneya, stares at window and then slowly re-examines every inch of the room.

The walls are still bare, but not cold, instead lightly pink, splotch near the door visible in light. Tea accident.

Dark mahogany dresser seems a little out of place next to modern set of working desk and closet, but it was in the house when they bought it and his sister loved it. Last drawer is slightly open, always a little difficult to close.

Pencil holder shaped like a cat stares from  atop the desk. Small papers and post-it splattered across the table. Green vest at the back of the chair.

Scrolls leaned next to the closet. Pictures without frames.

Bed. Still unmade. Untouched. Still with a faint lavender scent.

Wind chime outside the window.

 

It is suffocating. It mades him want to cry. So he does. He cries. Cries like on the day he found her.

Except…except there is now something warm so he latches onto that. He holds, he grabs, he tries to bury himself into that warmth. Warmth of someone alive.  Of someone here, right next to him. He fears of losing so he doesn't let go.

* * *

 

It's been a day since he last came. There were some relatives visiting and he couldn't get out of it. It was the worst time possible. What shall Miwa now think? He is nervous, so he is running. He called in the evening but no one answered.

Dark clouds gather, air is humid and rain catches him a few minutes before he rings on doorbell. He breathes hards, trying to catch his breath. His head is down, hands on his knees, heart thumping loudly. He shivers, not only from the rain.

Door open slowly, he lifts his head to say greetings and his breath is knocked away. He even takes step back and stares and stares.

Miwa stares back. Still too pale, still too thin, still in clothes from two days ago, hair still messy.

In the end Miwa moves first. He turns and walks a few steps, gives one more glance in Yoneya's direction and then takes stairs up.

His mother finds him at the door, staring at the place where Shūji was, still not quite sure whether he imagined it or not. She quickly ushers him in, gives him towel and then tells him to take some spare Shūji's clothes. She seems more lively, and after he comes to himself asks her about yesterday, asks about Miwa.

They went to her grave, so they turned the phone off. Not like it would be answered. As for Shūji, she too is not quite sure. When she came down in the morning to prepare breakfasts, he was in kitchen taking a glass of water. Like Yosuke, she too stared and only reacted when on his way back to room Shūji nodded and murmued  _Mornin'_  so quiet that she wasn't sure if it was her imagination or not.

She smiles and gives him a tray with food and then hurries him up.

He first changes, then stands a minute in front the room and after a deep breath he enters.

Miwa looks at him, doesn't say anything but he nods. Curtains are still opened.

Oppressive and dark atmosphere still lingers but is so much easier to breath. He feels happy, so he smiles, sits himself next to Miwa and puts tray between them. He tinkers with laptop until he is satisfied with the program and starts his routine talk.

Miwa doesn't really answer his questions but he does get a scowl and a snort and eyes looking at him with eyebrow raised.

* * *

 

It is noon and the rain is coming hard. There is lull in the room, soft chatter coming from a laptop. Windows are slightly opened and the fresh air that comes with the rain enters the room. The lavender scent lingers on the bed sheets that are neatly made.

There is a soft thump as Miwa leans on his shoulder. His voice is raw and quiet as he speaks. Ask.

„What am I supposed to do now?“

Yoneya doesn't even think as he answers: „Live“.

Miwa grunts. Then he slides down,lies his head on Yosuke's lap and squirms until he finds comfortable position and closes his eyes. Yousuke pulls covers over him and then a little hesitantly puts a hand on his head. When he makes no move remove himself from Yoneya, he continues to stroke his hair.

* * *

 

Two days later they take a short walk outside. Yoneya remarks that he feels like taking his dog for a walk and is meet with a shove and sharp  _Moron_. He laughs.

Another two days later and Miwa for the first since that day sleeps in his room.

And then, a week later gears shift in a whole new direction.

They are at the living room watching TV. Shūji's father is at work and soft clatter comes from kitchen where lunch is being made. They are wrapped in blankets and watch some cheesy drama. It ends and commercial start and then news.

There is segment about Border. A man with a scar across his eye is being interviewed. He talks about recruitment.

Suddenly, Miwa is sitting straight like a board, eyes glued to the screen. There is fire,life, in his eyes and Yoneya can already see where this is going. He has found his answer.

He is not sure what to think about it. Not sure whether it is good or bad.

* * *

 

 Yousuke's parents refuse his request to join Border with Miwa and for a while he accepts their decision.

Miwa adapts surprisingly well. From the talk, his team is a odd one, but they kind of get along. There is also someone named Azuma that Miwa respects and Yousuke can see he is trying his best to look after him, to make sure he is not consumed by revenge. Yousuke is happy, relieved, but also just a little bit jealous. Suddenly Miwa is in another world. Again.

Then there is Jin. It makes Yousuke confront an ugly truth. Miwa may have moved on, may have learned how to adapt but he never accepted and maybe he never will.

He might as well be on path to self-destuction. It gnaws at him. Doesn't let him sleep at night.

So he enlists and they are a squad. A make shift family.

But Miwa is still way to straightforward and Yoneya laughs a bitter smile to himself as he thinks about how the things he likes most about Miwa are the things that are one day going to destroy him and take him to the place his words can't reach him.

He is optimist by nature, never quite down, always with a hidden trick but he  _just_  can't see this ending well.

He is half resigned, half rebelling when Miwa is forced to rearrange his world slightly because 141 cm tall white fluff hair.

For a moment Miwa is lost again, but Yoneya embraces the confusion. It will force Miwa to think, to look at things from another perspective. Hopefully it will add more turns, more paths, more choices to Shūji's narrow world.

He will stick close. Like always. Perhaps latch even harder.

 


End file.
